


Still Holds True

by Water_Nix



Category: Glee
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Medical Procedures, Reunion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-07
Updated: 2013-04-07
Packaged: 2017-12-07 18:30:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/751659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Water_Nix/pseuds/Water_Nix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blaine has a medical emergency. Kurt has an epiphany.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Still Holds True

**Author's Note:**

> Happy birthday, Jeanne! <3

There is a finite length of time during which a person can pretend. Kurt's face hurts from smiling – his jaw, his cheeks, the bridge of his nose.

He's tapped out and trapped in, going through the motions day by day, because that's what people do. Sometimes he feels it like a cool shadow passing over him on a sunlit path: the breaking point. He feels it, but hurries past before it can grab hold of him and make him need things which are too strong for him to take. He only does feeling in small, measured doses now, and only when necessary. Sometimes during lessons with Madame Tibideaux she forces it out of him, these bouts of feeling, and it takes him days to get back to casual and carefree and mostly numb. He fears the day when everything finally catches up with him. Fears the catching. Fears the aftermath even more.

So he tells himself he'll think about it later and takes his Ambien and falls into sleep, falls into dreams he won't remember.

~*~

Blaine comes to terms with things more quickly than other people his age: death, hatred, the unreliability of adults in positions of authority. He sometimes feels too old for his eighteen year old bones, too young for them at the same time.

He sits a lot, foot tapping along to a beat that is only in his head, and he wonders how long people can hold onto something as fragile as hope. He wonders where faith in the invisible comes from and if it can be broken by time and distance. He knows it can be tested – he'd failed that test on his first try. But the thing about Blaine that is as certain as the rising of the sun, is that he always learns from his mistakes. He knows he will pass the next time if given the chance.

And so he washes the gel out of his hair and uses all four different products that Kurt recommended on his skin, and he crawls beneath the cold blankets of his bed full of both hope and faith. In a few months he will have the warmth of another to take the chill away when it's time to sleep.

~*~

Kurt tries to be upbeat when he drags himself into the Vogue.com building first thing in the morning. It's the perfect summer job and he's Isabelle's pet, so he gets to see and do so much more than the other interns. It's strange to be back full time now that classes at NYADA are over for the summer, but unless he's miraculously cast in one of the many shows he's been auditioning for, this is where he'll be spending his days. He just wishes he could feel excited about it, about anything lately.

He sighs and unpacks his things and sets about getting Isabelle her coffee.

Isabelle notices his mood when he steps inside her office and she gets up out of her chair to give him a hug, rubbing a hand soothingly over his back. She's soft and warm and smells of freesia and orange blossoms, and Kurt lets himself settle in for a moment, lets himself be calm. He knows the hug he really needs is firmer and more encompassing and tender and beloved. He needs larger hands splayed across his back, holding on so tightly they wrinkle the fabric of his jacket. He needs a cheek that's the slightest bit scratchy tucked in between his shoulder and neck.

He's pulled away from this phantom embrace, and the real one with Isabelle, when his phone buzzes in his pocket.

~*~

He's been feeling sick since the night before – pain in his stomach, a headache, cold sweats and nausea. He swallows down some painkillers and Pepto Bismol and goes to bed. He has a calculus exam in the morning and he can't miss it. It's the last and only exam he has to complete before being finished with high school.

He pulls the car over twice on the way to McKinley the next morning – once because the pain is so intense, and the second time to throw up on the side of the road.

Everyone comments on how terrible he looks and all he can do is nod, worried that if he opens his mouth to speak he will vomit again. Tina has to help him into the room to take the exam, telling him over and over to talk to their teacher and get permission to do it another day. But Blaine is stubborn. He wants to get it over with. The way he sees it, finishing this exam is one step closer to New York. And New York is one huge leap closer to Kurt and all the rest of his dreams.

He takes the test knowing full well that it's not going to be his best. He clutches his side and winces in pain, sweat pooling in his lower back, beading on his forehead and upper lip. He sucks in a breath and bites down to keep from crying out when it hits. He finishes the test and leaves with Tina in a foggy haze.

When they arrive at the choir room where they're meeting up with he others, he collapses. The last thing he sees is Sam's concerned face, and then he loses consciousness.

~*~

It's only when Kurt is about to board his flight that he realizes Isabelle paid for his ticket. He takes a beat to consider how he's going to pay her back before his mind jumps to Sam's frightened voice on the other end of the phone call, saying Blaine had collapsed at school and they brought him to the emergency room. Sam, who sounded terrified and is usually so calm and together. Kurt clutches his phone to his chest and blinks back the tears that are threatening to fall from his eyes, peeking around two women and a man who stand in front of him in line, waiting to board his flight to Dayton.

He's about to text his dad again, make sure he'll be there to meet him in an hour and a half when his plane lands, when his phone buzzes with an incoming message from Sam.

Appendix. They took him in for surgery.

He closes his eyes and sighs. At least he knows now. At least he knows what's wrong, though his heart rate hasn't slowed at all. He shows the lady his boarding pass and texts Sam a quick thank you, be there soon as he's walking to the plane.

He knows that appendicitis is common and the surgery routine, but he remains in a mild panic as the plane carries him towards Ohio. He can't help it – it's Blaine. His dad is the only other person who can garner this feeling of helpless panic in him, this fear so absolute and mind-numbing. Because as much as he loves his friends, the rest of his family – those two he simply cannot bear to be without. He can't be without Blaine in his life any more than he can go without water. He's known this for months, maybe for always, so he's clung to the idea of friendship, too hurt for anything more.

But he knows deep down that all the while his heart yearned for more. He has never felt so out of synch with himself, with his own thoughts and feelings and wants. But as he stares out the window at the dots of buildings and shapes of green and blue below, he feels everything lining back up, slotting back into place. He knows what he wants. He knows what he needs. He no longer feels so unhinged and floaty and jagged. Blaine is a part of him and he is tired of feeling hollow. And he finds that the pain has ebbed and he doesn't need to cling to his illusion of anger. He loves and he knows that he is ready to trust.

It's a really terrible time to have an epiphany – while the love of his life is being cut open on a table hundreds of miles away and below. And yet here it is and Kurt feels shaken with it.

~*~

When he gets to the hospital, rushing across gleaming floors to where Sam told Burt they would be, Kurt feels a renewed sense of panic bubble up in his chest.

He finds the entire New Directions sitting in the waiting room when he rounds the corner. Tina and Sam jump up out of their seats and approach.

“He's in recovery,” Tina says, sounding distressed. She clutches Kurt's hand.

“They won't let any of us in to see him until they reach his parents,” Sam tells him. The corners of his wide lips are turned down with worry and his arms reach to fold across his own torso.

Kurt glances around at all of their devastated faces. “Fuck that,” he all but growls. “They're letting me in.”

He feels Burt's hand on his back as he is about to stalk off towards the nurses station to find out which room Blaine is in, come hell or high water. A thin brunette girl that he recognizes from the wedding stops him. She looks slightly afraid of him, but she offers him a wavering smile and a travel-sized packet of tissues anyway. He feels his expression soften. “Thanks you,” he says, and reaches out to take them.

The lady at the counter is not very forthcoming.

“Only family is permitted,” she says with a sneer.

“We are family,” Burt argues.

“He's my boyfriend,” Kurt says. “You can't keep me from seeing him.”

“Until either his family gets here and okays it or he does himself, you aren't allowed in there.”

Kurt's eyes narrow and he clenches his teeth, gathering up his sharpest words and bitchiest expression. But just before he unleashes, he feels a light pressure on his arm and looks down to see the wide brown eyes of a tiny lady in blue scrubs. “Are you Kurt Hummel?” she asks.

She looks kind and apologetic and his anger deflates. “Yes.”

She nods her head and turns to the side. “He's on the list, Bernice,” she says to the nurse behind the counter, then turns back to Kurt and clasps a hand around his elbow. “Come on, dear. You're on the contact list so you're allowed in. Just you, though.” She looks up at Burt with a sad smile and he nods at her.

The nurse introduces herself as Vivian as she leads Kurt away from his friends and family and towards Blaine.

“Don't mind Bernice,” she says as they speed walk down a long, bland hallway. “She's not a bigot or anything. Just a little bit of a raging bitch.”

Kurt almost laughs as Vivian pats his shoulder.

“And even if she was, she can't do a thing since you're on Blaine's emergency contact list.”

Kurt just nods and follows after her, barely taking in the words. “Is he okay?” he asks, timid now that he's on his way to getting what he needs, knowing he doesn't have to fight his way in to see Blaine.

“He'll be fine, dear. The doctor will be by in a little while and she can explain everything to you.”

Vivian stops outside of a closed door and gives Kurt a small smile before opening it and motioning him inside. There is another nurse standing near the bed, but Kurt pays him no mind. All he can do is stare at Blaine, tiny and pale and attached to IVs and monitors.

He rushes forward, relieved to see Blaine's chest moving rhythmically up and down with the steadiness of his breath. “Blaine, baby,” he murmurs through a sob, clutching at Blaine's still hand and running both eyes and fingertips over his shadowed jaw and over his cheeks, where his long eyelashes rest, fluttering as if he's dreaming. Kurt leans down and presses a soft kiss to Blaine's lips and wipes away the tear that drips from his own eyes and splats on Blaine's waxy cheek. 

Nurse Vivian pulls a chair over from the corner and motions for Kurt to take a seat. “It'll be a little while before he's awake and coherent, hon. You may as well get comfortable.”

Kurt nods his thanks and falls into the chair without letting go of Blaine's hand, as unresponsive as it may be. “I thought appendix removal was routine. Why the IV and all of the...” He motions to the monitors where the other nurse is standing. Vivian and the nurse share a look and she shrugs her shoulders.

“You should wait until the doctor rounds... but I will tell you that Blaine's appendix ruptured before we could get him in for surgery, which makes it a bit more complicated –”

“Oh my God, can't people die from that?” Kurt feels terror flood his body and he pulls Blaine's hand up gently to rest against his cheek.

Vivian gives him a reassuring smile. “That's far less common than it once was in this country. They caught it soon after and we're pumping him full of IV antibiotics. It'll just be a bit longer of a recovery time is all. And since it was a more complicated procedure due to the rupture, it couldn't be done laparoscopically like it generally is – so he has a larger incision which will take a longer time to heal.”

“So he'll have a big scar?” Kurt turns his head to kiss the palm of Blaine's hand, looking down at his placid face. “You're not going to like that, are you, my love?”

~*~

It feels like forever before Blaine moves, before he makes a sound. It starts out as a pained whimper, a grimace that's there and then gone – Blaine's face slack as if Kurt had imagined the whole thing. But as the minutes tick by there are more little noises that make Kurt's stomach clench with want. He needs Blaine to open his eyes. To speak. To move. Sitting there keeping watch over him lying in the hospital bed is one of the worst things that Kurt has ever experienced. There are more movements – hand spasms and blinking lashes and twitching toes. Kurt takes notice and catalogues every one so he can inform the staff when they come back to check on Blaine. He's not taking any chances.

The muttering starts abruptly with Kurt's name. Blaine says it plainly the first time and Kurt thinks him awake, clutches his hand and leans forward, but it's nothing more than a sort of sleep-talking. He says Kurt again, less clearly the second time, and then starts muttering about ties and scarves and butterflies. Kurt bends down and kisses the tip of the nose.

“Kurt –” Blaine's eyes flutter and Kurt makes out the barest hint of golden hazel before it's gone. He leans his head against Blaine's shoulder and pets gently down his arm and over his hand.

“I'm here, Blaine,” he whispers. “Right here.”

“Kurt... Sorry,” Blaine breathes out. “'M sorry.”

Kurt's heart clenches and his eyes fill with moisture. He's done listening to Blaine's apologies. He forgives him. He just needs Blaine to open his eyes, to wake up so he can tell him so. Firm and clear this time, not in the wishy washy way he's tried to say it over the past few months.

“I'm sorry I got sick on our honeymoon,” Blaine mumbles and Kurt nearly chokes on his teary laugh.

“Oh, baby, this isn't our honeymoon. We'll make sure we fill ourselves full of vitamin C months beforehand so we're healthy for Paris.”

But Blaine is still again, unhearing. After another long moment he lets out a sigh and grimaces.

“Try not to move, Blaine,” Kurt warns in a quiet voice.

“Kurt –” He makes another face like speaking hurts him and Kurt hums soothingly and runs his fingertips up and down his cheekbone. “I'll get a tattoo,” he mumbles. “Of your name. I'll get a tattoo.”

Kurt claps a hand over his mouth and snorts into it. “Be careful, I might hold you to that. Even if you are as high as a kite right now.”

He doesn't expect a response of any kind, so he's surprised when Blaine's brow furrows. He lets out a long breath before mumbling again. “That was your favourite cake. I shouldn't have eaten the last piece.”

“If there was cake in this place I would have sniffed it out by now, sweetie.” Kurt leans in to press a kiss to the lines of confusion on Blaine's forehead.

He feels Blaine say his name this time; feels his warm breath against his neck, whispery soft. “Kurt – Sorry I made you cry. I promised myself I never would. Never ever.”

Kurt's breath catches and he has to swallow down the lump in his throat. “I know, Blaine. I know you didn't mean it. I forgive you. It's okay.”

“Kurt?” Blaine's voice is scratchy still, but less muddled, and when Kurt moves back and looks down, his eyes are wide open, if not a bit heavy. “Kurt, what are you –?”

Kurt takes a shaky breath and tries to smile, bringing the back of Blaine's hand up to his lips. He presses kisses to Blaine's knuckles until he feels steady enough to answer. “Your appendix ruptured, honey. You had an operation.”

Blaine nods slowly and tries to clear his throat, grimacing at the dryness.

“Oh,” Kurt says and leans away to pour some water from the nearby pitcher into a plastic cup. He unwraps a straw and pops it in before holding it to Blaine's lips. Blaine drinks it greedily and starts to cough, his hand flying to his incision. He hisses in pain and Kurt flutters his hands around him, unsure of what to do.

“Should I buzz for the nurse?”

Blaine shakes his head and his breathing begins to even out. “So they called you? Since you're one of my emergency contacts?” he asks, voice like gravel after his coughing fit.

“No, Sam called me. And since when am I on your emergency contact list? Not that I'm complaining, because oh my God, Blaine, if they hadn't let me in here there would have been a blood bath the likes of which this town has never seen.”

Blaine smiles at Kurt's joke and motions for the water again. “You sure?” Kurt asks with a raised eyebrow and Blaine nods.

After a few slow sips, Blaine nods his thanks and Kurt takes the cup away. “After the eye thing I got them to add you. The way they were trying to make you leave in the emergency room, I didn't want – I didn't think to... after –”

Kurt shakes his head and twines his fingers with Blaine's. “No. If anything ever happened to you and I couldn't – God, Blaine, I was so scared.”

“Wait –” Blaine tries to sit up but Kurt shushes him and pushes his shoulders back down. “You flew here? But, Kurt, you have work and I know your classes are finished, but auditions. And it's so expensive last minute, and you have important –”

“No, Blaine. I don't care about work or auditions. You are my top priority and I'm going to look after you. Unless –” Now he feels presumptuous. Maybe Blaine doesn't want him here. Maybe he's overstepping. Maybe he's too late and Blaine doesn't want to be with him anymore.

“Unless you don't want me to.”

“What? Oh God, Kurt, there is nothing I want more. Just – I don't want to mess up things for you, in your life –”

“Blaine, you are the most important thing in my life, all right? So let's get you healthy and to New York so we can –”

“Look who's awake!” Nurse Vivian announces from the doorway. Kurt jumps to attention. He should have buzzed to let them know Blaine had woken up. He is doing a terrible job of looking after him already – more worried about working things out with Blaine than making sure he's okay after having surgery for God's sake. He could kick himself. Vivian comes over to check all of Blaine's vitals and Kurt backs out of the way, dropping Blaine's hand at last.

~*~

He sees things in his sleep – horses and butterflies and fields of lilacs. And Kurt. There is always Kurt. He'd thought Kurt's voice had been a figment of his imagination, but he knows better now.

Kurt, who is standing off to the side, looking worried and frightened and like he wants to knock Blaine's arm away from the nurse who is taking his blood pressure and do it himself. Kurt who just said that Blaine was important. The most important. Kurt who will still have to leave again.

“Blaine, dear, your heart rate is high. You need to relax, all right?” the nurse says. “Are you in pain?”

Kurt races over at this, eyes wide, and Blaine shakes his head and reassures. He does feel a throbbing ache in his side and stomach and back, and also the bizarre itch under his skin that's the result of the pain medication. He despises that feeling. He can't get comfortable and thinks he would rather have the pain than the sensation and disorder, the tingling at the roots of his hair. He closes his eyes and breathes out. “I'm okay.”

“We got in touch with your parents,” she says. “They're on their way from Columbus.”

Blaine thanks her and she leaves, saying she will bring him something light to eat in a few minutes.

Kurt sits back in his chair and clings to Blaine's hand while the room shifts in and out.

At some point Blaine wakes up to his mother's voice, to her perfume, to her soft lips on his forehead. He hears her say that they'll be back in the morning, hears Kurt say that he's not going anywhere.

And so he's surprised the next time he wakes fully and Kurt is not there. He has a moment of panic, thinking his drug-addled brain had imagined what he most wanted to see, but the kind-eyed nurse from earlier is there a second later with a cup of water.

“He's gone to get something to eat,” she says. “Your boyfriend. I had to use bodily force to get him to leave your side, but we can't have him passing out on us. He's a keeper, that one.” She throws him a wink.

“My boyfriend?” Blaine asks after he carefully swallows the water.

She looks confused. “Kurt. He is your boyfriend, isn't he? Because that's what he said at the desk when Bernice was refusing to let him see you.”

“Yes,” Blaine says quickly. “Yes, of course he's my boyfriend. I'm just a little –” He waves a hand near his head and she smiles and leans away to place the cup on the side table.

“Muddled still. It's okay. Kurt said you have a low tolerance for pain meds. And the anaesthesia did a number on you too. But you'll be right as rain in no time, don't you worry.”

Kurt comes back into the room then, still shoving food into his mouth. “Blaine –” he says around a mouthful.

“Eating while walking,” the nurse says with a cluck of her tongue. “Bad for digestion.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Kurt sasses in a joking manner. “I'm eating, aren't I?”

The nurse laughs, patting Kurt's arm on the way out. “I'll bring you that cot,” she says. “Since you refuse to leave.”

“I can sleep in the chair –”

“I will bring you that cot.” Her eyes flash and Kurt rolls his.

“Fine.”

Once she's gone, Kurt rushes back over and takes Blaine's hand in his again and kisses his cheek. Blaine closes his eyes and just breathes in the scent of him.

~*~

Blaine wakes up to the smell of food, his stomach churning and his incision site throbbing, the pain radiating outwards. Kurt is lying on a cot which has taken the place of his chair, right next to Blaine's bed. His arm is stretched out and bent at an awkward angle as though he had been holding Blaine's hand all night as they slept. Blaine smiles softly at his sleeping face, which is showing the first signs of prickly, red-tinged hairs across his jaw and chin that Blaine never gets to see since Kurt shaves every day without fail.

“You should grow a beard,” Blaine says to him when he flutters his eyes open. “A ginger beard.”

Kurt smiles, sitting up in bed with a wide yawn, his fingers running through his hair. It still almost looks perfect, but for the slight flatness on one side.

“Oh, they brought your breakfast,” Kurt says. He shifts and dangles his legs over the side of the cot. “You must be starving.”

“I could eat,” Blaine says, his stomach giving a grumble at the mere mention of the act.

Kurt wheels the table over, cranking it down to the right height so that it's over Blaine's bed, then goes to the side and adjusts the bed itself, helping Blaine to sit upright. He winces in pain and has to lay back for a few minutes, breathing deeply, until the searing burn passes somewhat.

It's hard eating with an IV. He hates the way it itches and pulls and his hands are so shaky that he drops his spoon and a blob of applesauce onto the tray. Kurt hums and stands, pushing the table away so he can climb up next to Blaine in bed. He picks up the spoon and eyes Blaine, one shoulder raised in question. Blaine shrugs. He is not adverse to being fed, as long as it's by Kurt. He's too hungry to be embarrassed.

“They're going to let you start having visitors today,” Kurt says in his chatty voice as he spoons a bit of apple sauce into Blaine's mouth. “Dad and Carole are coming by soon, and Sam, Britt and Tina are stopping over during their lunch break. That okay?”

Blaine nods as he swallows. He's glad for the visitors; he appreciates and loves them all dearly, but he wouldn't mind more alone time with Kurt. They need to talk about everything, and God, he already feels sleepy and he's been awake for less than an hour.

“And I talked to Cooper on your phone. He's really worried, but he can't come until next week because he can't break his contract and they're in the middle of shooting. But he said to tell you he loves you and he'll see you soon. And he asked me to give you a hug, which I'll do once you've finished your breakfast.” He holds up the spoon with another bite, but Blaine shakes his head. He's getting full so quickly. He reaches for his juice instead.

“I got that, baby,” Kurt says. He leans forward to grab the little plastic cup of juice and positions the straw, holding it up to Blaine's lips. Blaine sips at it. It's sour after the sweetness of the apple sauce. He rests his head back against the bed with a sigh.

“Kurt?” His voice is quiet, timid. He wishes it had come out sounding more sure. Kurt makes a questioning hum and looks him in the eye. There's no turning back now. He has to ask. He's been turning it over and over in his head during every moment of wakefulness since the evening before, and he's pretty sure even his dreams were taken over by his questions.

“That nice nurse –”

“Vivian.”

“Right, Vivian. She, um... she said you called me your boyfriend.”

Kurt's eyes widen and he sucks in a breath. “I, ah, I didn't even think. I just – They were trying to keep me from seeing you and I –”

“You are, you know,” Blaine says, cutting off Kurt's rambling. “If you want to be, you'll always be my boyfriend. Until you're my husband, of course.” He tries for a cocky smile but he's sure it falls miles too short.

Kurt smirks back. “We should probably not wait too long to make that status change, should we?” He tries to be nonchalant when he shrugs his shoulders and fiddles with the contents of Blaine's breakfast tray, but Blaine can see the flush of pink that creeps over his cheeks and down his neck. “I know we're young, but when you know, you know.”

“Absolutely,” Blaine says. It comes out as little more than a breath. He feels tears forming in his eyes and he blinks them back. “How long will it take to organize a wedding to our exact specifications, do you think?” As much as he means it to be a joke, it's kind of not and he's pretty sure Kurt knows that. His eyes are looking as wet as Blaine's feel.

“Two years? Maybe eighteen months if we choose a simple venue.”

Blaine lets out a dramatic sigh and Kurt grins at him. “That's a little long, but I guess I can manage to wait to be your husband. I'm positive it'll be worth it.”

“Well, if it helps,” Kurt says, pushing the table out of the way and taking Blaine's hand. “You get a step up from simple boyfriend to fiancé.”

“That definitely makes it an easier wait,” Blaine says with a wink and leans up kiss Kurt. And pulls at his stitches.

He cries out in pain and Kurt rests a hand against his chest, rubbing gently. “Baby, is it hurting a lot again?”

“No, it's –”

“Blaine!” Kurt chastises. He can tell Blaine is lying. He can read him too well.

“I hate the meds, Kurt. They make me feel so weird.”

“I know, Blaine. I know you do. But if it hurts... You'll heal more quickly if you're comfortable, right? So push the magic drug button, honey. You know you want to.” Kurt waggles his eyebrows and Blaine winces through a laugh.

“Okay. But will you hold me?” Kurt looks wary so Blaine widens his eyes as much as possible and pouts his lips extra pathetically. “I hate the way it feels.”

“All right,” Kurt says with a sigh. “But if it hurts you, I'm stopping.”

It takes careful manoeuvring, but Kurt ends up behind Blaine with his legs spread wide and Blaine resting between them, the back of his head against Kurt's chest.

“If the nurses come in and yell at me, I'm blaming you,” Kurt warns and Blaine laughs again, crying out as a burn tears through his side. Kurt apologizes profusely for making him laugh, kissing his hair and the side of his face.

They push the magic drug button and Blaine settles in, quickly becoming sleepy. “I'm scared,” he admits after a few minutes of quiet, Kurt brushing his long, cool fingers through Blaine's messy hair.

“Of what, baby? You're going to be fine. I'll make sure of it.”

Blaine shakes his head slowly. It's making him dizzy. “Don't want you to leave me,” he says. His eyes are heavy now, but he forces them to stay open.

Kurt makes a cooing sound and tightens his arms around Blaine's shoulders. “I'm not leaving, Blaine. I'm not leaving Ohio until I can take you with me. Okay? I have it all figured out, don't worry. You can sleep. We'll talk about it when you wake up.”

Blaine shakes his head again. He needs to know now. He can't go into a drug-addled sleep with these worries on his mind. He hates the dreams. “Tell me, please. I need –”

“Okay,” Kurt whispers and Blaine feels Kurt's lips on the back of his hand. “The doctor said once they've finished your rounds of antibiotics, you'll be sent home. I'm going to take care of you until you're better. Isabelle told me to take as much time as I need, and I don't have to worry about rent for next month, because I've already got that socked away. And hell, I'll save money since I won't be paying for groceries and, God, we order in way too much... though I will have to go shopping, because I didn't bring any clothes with me.... Anyway, I'll stay here until after graduation. We'll get your diploma, then I am stealing you, Blaine Anderson, and we're holing up in my Bushwick loft and I am never giving you back.”

“Kurt,” Blaine says, his voice stuttered with exhaustion. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, Blaine. So, so much.”

Blaine manages a ghost of a smile before sleep crashes into him and he's snoring softly against Kurt's chest.

~*~

On the day Blaine is released from the hospital, Kurt slides a thin, silver band onto his ring finger. “Placeholder,” he says, and kisses Blaine full on the mouth, regardless of the fact that they're surrounded by both sets of their parents as well as Sam, Tina and Finn.

“I've got your placeholder at home in my bowtie drawer,” Blaine tells him, bashful.

“Really?” Kurt asks, eyes excited and lips pursed. “Let's go and get it then.” He skips around to the back of Blaine's chair and wheels him through the doors of the hospital and into the sunshine and sweet-smelling air of a beautiful, promise-filled June morning.


End file.
